


Monday

by ballvvasher



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:47:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ballvvasher/pseuds/ballvvasher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has a surprise for his snoozing boyfriend. </p><p>A glimpse into this lumberjack!Chris/drag-queen-performer-slash-bartender!Sebastian au Ali and I made up. Part of a series, possibly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GraveVyxen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveVyxen/gifts).



 “Hey, _pst_ , babe. Wake up,” Chris whispered into the ear of his snoozing bed mate, rubbing the exposed skin of his lower back with a calloused hand. He hated having to wake up Sebastian, but they hardly see each other awake during the week, as Chris’s shifts in the lumber yard always begin at the ass-crack of dawn and his boyfriend’s shifts at the bar always carry out to two or three in the morning. Chris liked to start their weeks together, and he had a surprise that just might be worth enduring any bitchiness he might receive, seeing that it’s almost four-thirty in the morning.

 

There was still only soft breathing from the other side of the bed, so Chris changed his tactic, placing chaste kisses beside the small hoop earring still pinned in the brunet’s ear. He knows Sebastian is never numbed to the sensation of Chris’s beard on his skin, so expectantly he roused enough to let out a low groan in response to the provocation. “Mmh, what is it?” he mumbled in an accented voice as he does so unconsciously, smiling with closed eyes and stretching his back like a cat.

 

Chris moved to place another kiss on the soft skin of his cheek. “It’s Monday.”

 

“Shit, yeah,” he grumbled, now clearly no longer happy to be awake regardless of how pleasant the company would be if he remained conscious. “Wh—”

 

“I have something I wanna show you.”

 

“ _Now?”_ Sebastian huffed as he blinked at the digital display of the clock on the nightstand, rolling onto his stomach and snuggling with the worn duvet.

 

“Yes, now. C’mon it’ll only be a few minutes then I’ll carry you back to bed myself,” he vowed, because boy, did Sebastian love to be carried.

 

Sebastian rolled back into the solid circle of Chris’s arms, blinking blearily into the older man’s warm gaze. He didn’t properly clean his eye-makeup off from Sunday night’s show, and the artfully crafted tips and edges of his liner had smudged into what was left of the plum eye-shadow. Chris’s chest fluttered at the sight of his disheveled lover and also with his eagerness to show him his surprise. “If you’re surprise involves me leaving this bed, I’m not sure it’s worth it,” he smirked suggestively, native accent concealed once more.

 

Chris sighed, nearly defeated. He really didn’t want to give anything away—“You know what, stay here. I’ll be right back.” _This is a better idea anyway_.

 

Propped on an elbow, Sebastian raised one manicured eyebrow at Chris’s new orders. “I promise!” his boyfriend grinned, and he left the room bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 

The taller man noted how Sebastian’s expression softened when his eyes landed the object Chris returned with. His fingers buzzed as he undid the latches of the case holding his good guitar. “Now I’ve only been practicing this number for a week or two, so just make a face if you want me to stop. I hope you’ll recognize it—Jerry down at the yard helped me out with the uh, the history of this song ‘cause he knows a lot about, um, this kinda stuff,” he belted nervously, finally getting situated at the foot of the bed opposite to Sebastian, who is now sitting up straight and attentive and still hasn’t said anything, except for with his eyes.

 

Chris swallowed against the nerves and began to strum. The only sounds in the room were the creaks of the cabin from the winds and of the string picking Chris was building with his capable finger tips into an even melody.

 

After about twenty seconds Sebastian let out a soft gasp in realization and a laugh of disbelief at the refrain. Chris, pleased with Sebastian’s reaction, smiled so that the corners of his eyes crinkled warmly as he moved to finish the song. He wondered how many Romanian lullabies Sebastian would have heard as a kid and was infinitely relieved that he recognized his musical interpretation.

 

Chris cleared his throat, balancing the guitar on his knee. “Well, you know, I thought you might like to hear a song from, uh…”

 

“That was _Dormi Copile_ , wasn’t it?” The corners of his lips quirked gently and he moved on his hands and knees, closer to his blushing partner. Chris nodded, setting the instrument to the side. “Thank you, Chris. It was beautiful.” Sebastian smile grew, edging closer to poke his nose into Chris’s bearded cheek.

 

“Hopefully we brought back some good memories,” he replied, wrapping an assuring muscled arm around Sebastian who made his way into the larger man’s lap.

 

“I’m amazed that you…that you took the time to learn it,” he murmured craning his neck to look into his lover’s azure eyes. That sounded too much like ‘that you took the time to care’ for Chris’s liking, so he placed a firm kiss on Sebastian’s red, red lips. Although Chris doesn’t care about making-out using stagnant, morning-breath mouths, he knows that Sebastian does. He’s always the one to keep things neat and clean and presentable: perfect nails, perfect hair, perfect eyebrows, perfect American accent—all elements of Sebastian’s performance that Chris loves to view and appreciate. Sebastian is the most gifted artist he knows.

 

“Well, it wasn’t too difficult. I’m just glad it was a song you’ve heard and one you remember. From before,” Sebastian rarely talks about his life prior to life traveling the States, which is partly the reason why he was so nervous earlier. He didn’t want to cross any unspoken boundaries.

 

Sebastian hummed in response, lowering his lashes, slightly clumped with mascara from yesterday night. “My father used to sing to me and my little cousin, and sometimes he’d play his instruments,” gesturing to Chris’s guitar, “Well, it was like, a small guitar. I don’t know what it was called…those were happier times.”

 

He knows he’s heard Sebastian speak to an older woman, possibly his mother, on the phone. Did Sebastian still keep in contact with his father—did they have a good relationship, if they had one at all? It really wasn’t his business, yet Chris couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his chest at Sebastian’s melancholic tone. And he must’ve shown some kind of signal of it on his face because Sebastian shifted, setting more in his lover’s lap. “Until I met you, of course. I don’t think I’ve met anyone quite like you.”

 

“Nor have I you,” Chris implored, large hands gathering his lover’s waist, using their positioning to tip Sebastian once more onto his back into the soft down of their pillows. He supposes he can be a few minutes late for his shift. After all, it’s Monday.

**Author's Note:**

> Link to the song Chris plays
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZqHLFz31qZI


End file.
